If I were a bird I’d fly for a while and go back home,
From here to New York,
To a bird feeder and expensive home,
To the ocean and eat food.
I would see land and mountains,
The western part of North Carolina.
The tops of trees, whatever is around.
A little bit lower.
If I were flying over a canyon I’d see different formations of rocks,
The wind feels real cold and my cheeks feel like bleeding.
If it got too bad I’d ask the lead bird for lotion.
I’d try to learn to fly where people wouldn’t bother me,
I don’t know what a bird feather feels like.
Most are soft.
It looks nice.
-By the residents of the Smith and Deal household